Count On Me
by daltonfightclub
Summary: When Blaine realizes his feelings for Kurt have developed into something more than friendship, he tries to share it with his family. He suddenly feels abandoned, until he discovers the invisible bond that exists between brothers.  AU but here's to hoping
1. Chapter 1: The Fallout

**A/N: **In which I am a Blangst whore and sometimes I just need Blaine to hurt a little. Inspired by my own headcanon in which everything suddenly makes sense because Blaine's brother is in the picture. Takes place around the time of 'Original Song'. Special thanks to Allie, Cait and Maria! Reviews are always helpful and appreciated!

**Update: **I've decided to venture into the world of multichapter-dom! I've started to work on the forthcoming chapters but I won't start posting them until I have at least a few done (so don't forget story alert!). I have a loose idea in my head and plan on taking this at least through to season three (where we are now) but who knows what my boys have in store. Kurt will be coming up soon, so keep a lookout! xx

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><p>"Blaine, you know, eventually you'll have to tell me what happened."<p>

Blaine sat quietly on the couch, clutching his legs to his chest, his head resting heavy on his knees. Still, silent, empty. He stared at the blank television while his brother looked on with concern, unsure of how to draw this out of Blaine.

It's not that he didn't_ know _his younger brother, and it's certainly not that he didn't_ care_, it had just been so long since they'd lived under the same roof or spent any time together. Sure there were birthdays and holidays, shared glances over tense dinner tables, encouraging pats on the back to say '_you can make it through this_,' and '_only a few more years_.' He knew Blaine, he _loved_ Blaine, but he had _never _seen Blaine like this before.

Blaine was broken.

"Is it Dad again?" he asked tentatively, hoping maybe closing the physical distance would encourage Blaine to uncork, letting whatever it is that brought him to this place to pour out. Blaine remained silent but his body tensed, his arms tightening around his knees as he breathed deeply, inhaling air like it was the only thing keeping him from drowning in murky waters.

"I'm gay."

Zach cocked his head with a furrowed brow, "Blaine, I'm not following here."

"I'm _gay_, Zach. G-A-Y Gay!" he spat out, his hands carelessly wiping away the salty tears that burned a trail down his cheek.

"I know _that,_ Blaine. You told me years ago, remember? I'm fairly certain this couch and an entire truckload of ice cream were involved," he elbowed Blaine's side, his attempt to lighten the mood falling stiffly between them. "I know that Blaine. Dad knows that. What does that have to do with anything? What happened?"

Blaine closed his eyes, biting in his bottom lip as he steadied himself for the truth. Up until this point he'd been able to ignore it, push through the hurt as if it didn't exist. _'It's not real,'_ he had told himself, _'this isn't happening, he still loves me.'_ Anything to distract himself from the enormity of it all. But now his older brother was staring at him like he had two heads and the vice around his heart was threatening to tighten with each minute that passed. He had to tell him, he had to be honest with his brother and with himself, no matter how suffocating it was.

"Kurt happened."

"Wha-" Zach started, his eyes widening as the realization hit him. "Oh god, Blaine, you didn't.." he ran his hand through his hair, "he didn't, I mean, he didn't _see_ you with...what's his name? Kurt? He didn't, you know?" he waved his hands emphatically in the air.

"No, no nothing like that," Blaine tossed his head against the back of the couch, hopelessly staring at the ceiling. Why couldn't his brother just _know_? Why did he have to find the words to tell him? How _could_ he tell him? _'By the way Zach, our father is a huge asshole, and oh yeah, can I live with you?' _No, that probably wouldn't go over well.

"Kurt, he's my _best_ friend, he has been for awhile. I've mentioned him a few times to mom, he's even been over to the house - you know, when Dad's been on trips and stuff," he paused to glance around the room, as if to check that his father wasn't there, as if he could somehow _hear_ him. "I could tell, you know, I could tell that it always bothered him when I talked about other guys, even if they were just friends. It's not that he didn't try, Zach, he has been trying I think, but that's the point isn't it? He shouldn't have to _try_, right? It should just be, I don't know..normal. _I am_ normal!" Blaine let an exasperated sigh slip from his lips and Zach pried his hand off his knee, taking it in both of his own.

"So things have changed, with Kurt and I. He's my _best_ friend, but god he's so much _more_ than that you know? It took me a really long time to figure it out, but I get it now Zach. I get it! He's kind and compassionate and the strongest person I've ever know..I came home from school the other day, I was _so_ happy. I hadn't been that happy in years. Years! You know why? Because it hit me, Pavarotti died and I should have been sad, but I couldn't be because Kurt was there, he was there and he was singing and wearing his heart on his sleeve like he always does and for the first time it just seemed so _obvious_, like my future was just sitting in front of me waiting for me to take it, you know? I was ecstatic and I just wanted to tell them, because I should _want_ to tell them. They're my fucking _parents_ for god's sake and they should have been happy for me!"

"Woah woah woah, you have to slow down, Blaine," Zach squeezed his hand, giving Blaine space to settle with his thoughts. "Just, calm down a little okay? I don't want to miss anything."

A few minutes passed before Blaine found his voice - and his resolve - again. "So I told them. I marched in the door and I told them that Kurt and I were dating. That's it, just dating. Nothing like 'oh hey, I'm going to suck his face in front of you' or 'I'm having big gay anal sex!' Just dating. Completely innocent. They _knew_, Zach, they knew how hard these past few years have been for me. I thought they'd be relieved or _something."_ His voice broke, the sobs wrenching through his body, his knees falling from his chest.

"What'd he say Blaine?"

He wrapped his arms around his torso, open, exposed, vulnerable. Trying to regain some sort of protection from the way the memory seared his eyelids every time he blinked, the way his father's voice, strained and threatening, rung through his ears. But there was nothing to protect him; no armor, no shield. This was real and Blaine was _bare_.

"He told me to get out."

"He what?" Zach nearly choked on his own words. He knew his father, he'd fought his fair share of battles, paid his dues. But nothing, _nothing_ could have prepared Zach for what his little brother was about to tell him.

"He said 'get the fuck out of my house,' as if I was a _murderer_ or something. Just like that. No preamble, no warning just 'I can't deal with this anymore,' and then he left. He walked out of the god damn kitchen and that was it."

"But Blaine.." he looked helpless, Zach noticed, and suddenly it was as if Blaine was seven years old again, sitting on Zach's bed after he accidentally broke the left tail light on his father's new Mercedes. Tiny. Defenseless. Scared and confused with a look that could break even the strongest of hearts. "Blaine how do you know that he really meant it? That he wasn't just, I don't know, angry from work and taking it out on you?"

"Oh COME ON, Zach!" Blaine barreled off the couch, the tension rising in his blood, the breath stolen from his lungs. "I know you've been absent the past few years but I didn't think you were that much of an idiot!"

"And Mom?"

That was it. Those were the words that cut through him, tearing into his insides, gutting him with disappointment and hurt. He half-expected this from his father, but his mom? She was _always _on Blaine's side, always fighting his battles, always looking out for him when his father was a little too stressed or a little too drunk. She was there, she was _always _there. But now 'always' suddenly felt like an ugly lie, traded for convenience. He fell to his knees, one hand clutching his stomach, another gripping his forehead. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Zach had just enough time to scoop him up and carry him the few steps to the washroom before Blaine was doubled over the toilet, his body heaving, expelling his lunch and his demons in one violent motion. Zach kneeled beside him, rubbing his back and suddenly Blaine was ten years old and their parents were out of town. Zach begrudgingly foregoing plans with his college friends to watch his little brother who, with just his luck, managed to contract a nasty case of the flu and spent the entirety of the weekend on the bathroom floor.

Twenty minutes later Blaine was back on the couch, lying on his side curled against the cushions with a cold cloth pressed against his forehead. He drifted in and out of sleep as Zach paced the floor, trying to calm his temper before picking up the phone and giving his father a very honest piece of my mind.

"Zach?" Blaine stirred, trying to lift himself up; his arms, still weak with sickness and disappointment, gave out, causing him to fall back with a soft 'thud.' Zach moved to the couch, hoisted Blaine's body up and placed his head gingerly in his lap.

"It's gonna be okay bud," he said with a heavy sigh, removing the cloth from his forehead, soothing his hands through his little brothers hair. "This is your home too," he paused, wondering for just a moment if he was ready for this, if he could take Blaine in and love him and give him a home his parents were never able to make. "It'll be so much better than being over there anyway."

Blaine looked at him curiously.

"Would Mom and Dad let you invite your boyfriend over without supervision?" he said with a knowing smirk, ruffling Blaine's hair for good measure.

A slow smile spread across Blaine's blushing face. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."


	2. Chapter 2: The Aftermath

**A/N: **Well you did it guys! Thanks to the lovely support here and on tumblr, I've decided to go ahead and let Blaine and Zach run wild in my imagination. I'm already super attached to both of them, as well as their dog Humphrey, and I hope you will get there as well! Please, please comment/review etc. because I adore your feedback and your ideas! Kurt was feeling a little neglected in the last chapter so he came out to play in this one :) You can find me on tumblr at daltonfightclub and as always, special thanks to Allie, Cait and Maria! xx

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters contained herein, but if Ry Murphs wants to give me a job at the writer's table then I'd happily accept!

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><p>Blaine woke slowly the next morning, his eyes half-hazardly blinking away the late winter light streaming through the bay window. It felt oddly familiar, waking up in a foreign place in a bed he never before called his own, unreserved in a way that's bred only from uncertainty. It was almost as if he knew this day would eventually come, every day another held breath, a few more chance encounters; every day wondering when his father would quit his poorly pantomimed charade and just let it break, let <em>him<em> break.

Now that he was here, in a bedroom that maybe one day he'd call his own, a house that someday would be his home, the day looked a little brighter, his heart a little lighter. It would take some time to adjust - and probably more effort than he cared to acknowledge - but waking up underneath the warm down covers in a dimly lit room, safe from the world and apart from his father, he almost felt the past fading as quickly as the day rose before him.

_But it can't be that easy_, he thought, to settle into a new life so distant from one once lived. It can't be, and Blaine didn't necessarily want it to be either. As much as he'd like to take back the years spent in silence, the nights without sleep, the conversations without words, he knew he couldn't because without those moments he wouldn't have the Warblers, or his voice. He wouldn't have Kurt, or his heart.

Yes, Blaine knew this sudden change might take time and adjustment, but for the first time in his life he felt okay. Not great, not bad, but okay. '_I can handle okay. I'm good at okay.'_

That is, until he rolled onto his side, the covers falling away from his face and the reality of the day slapping him along with the brisk March air. He groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes before grabbing his phone from the nightstand where Zach placed it with a couple of aspirin and a glass of water. '_Right, I'm at Zach's house,' _Blaine reminded himself, letting the events of the previous night creep into his consciousness along with an overwhelming need to wash his mouth out with Listerine or soap - anything to get rid of the horrible aftertaste of years of disappointment. "Thank god for my brother," he mumbled through a sip of water, watching his phone power-up from it's own night's rest.

He scrolled through his messages: seven missed calls (five from Kurt, two from Wes, one from..Rachel Berry? He didn't even try to make sense of that one), nearly 25 text messages, mostly from Kurt. He scrolled down until he found the first unopened message -

(Received 7:30 PM): Are we still on for our routine tonight? I think it's time I introduce you to your new best friend, Esteé Lauder.

(8:43 PM): If it's too much of a hassle or if you're tired, we can totally skip it tonight!

(9:27 PM): Earth to Blaine? Is your phone dead or did you just climb back into the closet?

(9:45 PM): Okay that last one was a little mean. Maybe I can find a way to make it up to you? ;)

(10:12 PM):I knew it was too soon for suggestive texting. I swear I'll never do it again.

(10:13 PM): Unless you want me to?

(10:48 PM):Okay, now I'm starting to worry.

(11:00 PM): It's officially 30 minutes past our phone date. Are you okay? We don't need to talk every night, but..just let me know you're okay?

(7:30 AM): Just talked to Wes. Blaine, we are WORRIED.

(8:15 AM):Oh my god. You NEVER miss school. Ever. Should I come to your house? Oh my god.

(8:20 AM):Realizing these texts are pointless if you're lying dead in a ditch somewhere. PLEASE tell me you're not dead in a ditch.

(9:12 AM):Okay, nearly had a panic attack in second period. David took me to the nurse and they told me your brother called you out sick. Your brother? I don't know what happened but..don't keep me out? Glad you're okay. Call me when you're ready? xx - K

"God damnit."

Blaine fell back hard against the pillow; Humphrey, Zach's Bernese Mountain dog, lapped at Blaine's face. "Not now killer," he batted away the dog's snout, his eyes glancing towards the clock: 1:37 PM. His eyes wandered to a note taped to the back of the door. Stretching his arms over his head, he kicked his feet out from underneath the covers.

"Well Bogie, it looks like it's time to face the day." The brown dog anxiously wagged his tail, hoping for an early afternoon jog around the neighborhood. Blaine ignored the pup's playful nuzzles, grabbing the scribbled note instead -

_ Little B - _

_ If you're reading this then you're probably alive. Congrats! I called you out sick at Dalton (don't count on this becoming habit), figured you needed the sleep. I have a trial today but I'll try to make it home ASAP. There should be plenty of food in the kitchen when you get hungry and I left a card on the table incase you want take-out. Get me some lo mein if you get Chinese! Try to relax and we'll come up with a game plan when I get back._

_ Breathe. Everything will be fine, you're home now. _

_ I'm proud of you, Blaine._

_ Big Z_

Blaine took a deep breath. '_I'm not going to cry. I'm not.' _A mantra he'd come to know so well over the years, a lifeline before he left Westerville High, when the bullying still left bruises; a steady comfort late at night after fights with his father, fights that didn't leave his skin blue but still cut just as deep.

Now those same words, once reliable and steadfast, seemed like a lie, carrying with them defeat and remorse. _'It's okay to cry, Blaine..the walls are down, the truth is okay. It's okay.' _He could almost hear Kurt's voice in the back of his mind, feel his arms wrap around his shoulders, breathe in that scent that he couldn't quite place now but hoped one day would be as familiar as his own.

"Kurt." Blunt, like it was the simplest truth that held all the answers. Humphrey barked insistently in agreement.

"I guess it's now or never, huh buddy?" Blaine scratched behind his ears, soliciting an appreciative whine in return.

1:50 PM. Kurt would probably be in the middle of calculus at this point, Blaine realized shortly after the ringing tone hummed through the speaker, _there's no way he'll pick-_

"Oh my god, _Blaine!"_ Kurt whispered, "Hold on." Blaine heard a faint rustling on the other end, footsteps, a closing door.

"Hey." A simple word, the softest and sweetest Blaine's ever heard it spoken.

"Hey." His throat constricted, his mouth dry, his tongue grating like sandpaper over the already raw roof of his mouth.

"Are you..." Kurt paused, collecting his thoughts and maybe his sanity, "Are you okay Blaine?"

Blaine. Blaine. _Blaine._ He would be perfectly content to hear his name - and only his name - for the rest of his life, if it meant Kurt saying it like _that._

"I...no." '_Well that definitely wasn't what I meant to say.'_

"Ohh Blaine," Kurt sighed and for a moment Blaine could almost see him, leaning against a door in the front foyer, his arm clutching around his torso, eyes closed, lips pursed in disquiet. "What happened? Why did your brother call you out sick? I didn't even know you were close to your - Shit. I'm doing it again. I'm sorry I just..I was worried I scared you away already, like I was being overzealous or something, and then you didn't show up this morning and god, _Blaine_, I was just so god damn _worried."_

Maybe he should be upset (or at least concerned) that Kurt was unravelling at the seams because of him, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. _He cares. _

"Kurt."

"Yeah?" Heavy. Tentative, revealing more than Kurt usually gave.

"It's okay. Really. I'm..I'll be okay. But..." he could practically hear Kurt's breath stop, even miles away, "do you think you would come?"

"Over. I mean," Blaine added slightly flustered after an uncomfortable silence, "come over, maybe after school?"

"Of course, I can, I mean..I want to. I really do. I can be there in-" he paused to check his watch, "Where? Where can I be?"

A chuckle. "My brother's house, I spent the-I'm staying. Here. I'm staying here. I'll text you the address?"

"Yes, good. I'll be there as soon as I can." Blaine sighed in relief, he knew it wouldn't be that hard but _he cared_.

"Blaine?" Soft, unsure.

"Yes Kurt?"

"I'm glad you called _me_."

"Me too, Kurt," he hoped Kurt couldn't sense the tears welling behind his eyes, "me too."

It was nearly three o'clock by the time Blaine finished his shower, rummaged through Zach's drawers for a pair of sweatpants that didn't completely swallow his petite frame and returned from a short (but productive) stroll around the block with Humphrey. He knew Kurt was a cautious driver, but he also knew Kurt had a particular proclivity for disregarding the rules whenever anything important was on the line (_"It's not that I don't respect the rules, Blaine, I just so happen to believe that I'm above them"). _It felt slightly presumptuous, to call himself among the 'important' things in Kurt's life so soon, but that was one of the few things Blaine had come to rely on these past few months: if nothing else, Blaine always knew he _mattered_ to Kurt. He was cared for, he was important.

Okay, so maybe Kurt wasn't about to jump in front of a train or take a bullet for him, but Blaine thought maybe, just maybe, he may have been willing to skip seventh period English to make it to Zach's a few hours early.

Sure enough, just as Blaine was setting out a fresh bowl of water for Humphrey, the doorbell chimed through the house. The energetic dog bolted down the hallway, knocking into a side-table, causing a collection of coins, keys and old newspapers to scatter across the floor. Blaine scrambled to gather the various items and shoved them in the crate under the table. Kurt rapt impatiently at the door, the knocks increasing in frequency the longer Blaine clambered about the foyer.

"Just a second!" Blaine answered and _oh, why is my voice hoarse?_

Blaine barely had time to unlock the door before Kurt was pushing it open, throwing his arms around Blaine's shoulders, pressing his body close, nuzzling his nose behind Blaine's ear, engulfing Blaine with warmth and concern and whispers of _"I'm so happy to see you,"_ and _"I was so worried" _and _"I missed you today." _And just like that, Blaine felt like he was finally home.

A few moments later they settled on the couch, about a foot of space separating their anxious minds and overactive legs.

Kurt and Blaine were best friends, they'd been best friends practically since the day they met on that staircase back in November, but now they were so much _more_. They were _boyfriends_. Boyfriends who were still figuring out when it was okay to extend a hand, when an arm around the shoulder would be welcomed, when words would suffice and when they just weren't enough. They would learn, eventually, that 'boyfriends' and 'best friends' weren't mutually exclusive ideas, but for now Kurt twisted his hands hesitantly in his lap while Blaine nervously rubbed at the nape of his neck. He knew that the ball was in his court, that he called Kurt, that he would be the one to initiate this conversation. He knew that he needed Kurt but he didn't know how difficult it would be to tell him exactly how much.

Just as Blaine began to shrink back into his shell, quickly cycling through all the possible excuses he could make for himself (_'I just wanted a change of scenery,'_ or _'my mom got a new cat and I'm allergic,'_ or maybe _'my parents just decided to go on vacation for an undetermined amount of time'), _Kurt cleared his throat. _'Great_,' Blaine thought quietly to himself, _I guess there's no getting out of this one._

"You don't have to tell me, Blaine."

Blaine snapped his head towards Kurt, unsure if he really just heard what he thought he heard, if Kurt was_ actually _giving him a 'get-out-of-jail free' card. He searched his face for what his ears apparently missed but was greeted by a calm, sullen expression. Blaine didn't quite understand.

"What?" _Smooth, Blaine, really smooth._

"You don't have to tell me," he replied, taking extra care to emphasize each word. "You don't have to tell me why you're here, why I'm here...You don't have to tell me what happened with your parents - if anything happened at all," he added almost as an afterthought, pausing to gauge Blaine's reaction, noting how Blaine drew in a sharp breath and furrowed his brows just slightly. "You don't have to tell me. I would like you to, but I won't make you."

"But," Kurt added with a slight side-smirk, "I swear to that nonexistent god, if you so much as try to tell me that you've developed a sudden and life-altering allergy to something inside your house, I will walk right back out that door."

And that was it. That was enough to dissolve whatever walls Blaine had been trying to quickly build back up. This was Kurt. This was the same Kurt who knew Blaine so well that he could literally read his mind; the same Kurt that risked detention to leave school early for him; the same Kurt who trusted Blaine so completely that he cried in front of him _the day they met_. This was just Kurt, and what's more, this was just Kurt and Blaine.

So he let the words spill from his mouth, unbridled and fumbling, but always honest and trusting. As the memories tumbled across his lips and filled the room with hurt and disappointment, Blaine realized that he had never really told anyone these stories before. Sure, he once mentioned a family vacation to David, but conveniently left out the part where his father spent the entirety of the week drunk and the better part of each night berating Blaine for costing him a fortune in medical expenses. He probably told Jeff about Christmases spent at his Gram's house, but never made it to the part of the story where he walked in on his father and uncle talking about him, using _those_ words, those words he refused to speak but could never quite erase from his mind. His brother called on his last birthday and Blaine told him about the new computer he received, failing to mention the obligations that came along with it (_"It's just a few dates, Blaine. She's pretty, and one of the partner's daughters, and it's not like many other girls will want to date someone as..confused as you are. Give it a chance.") _

The closest he ever came to telling anyone _these _stories was that chilly afternoon back in February when he walked into the Hummel's garage and felt himself nearly break into pieces in front of his best friend's father.

But that was different. That was for Kurt and Blaine said what was necessary to get the point across. But _this - _Blaine sitting on the couch with damp eyes and a raw throat, threatening to cross over a line of no return - this had nothing to do with Kurt and everything to do with himself and it felt absolutely _terrifying._

"...And the look on my mother's face, it was just so _blank_, Kurt, blank and _empty_. She was standing there watching this person kick her son out of her own house and she didn't say a god damned thing. Not one word! She just watched me walk out the door like she'd been waiting for that moment for _years. _Like they'd talked about it or planned it or just knew that eventually they'd have enough of me and my _choices_."

"Oh my god," Kurt whispered, and Blaine couldn't tell if it was angry or sad or some muddled emotion in between. "I'm so..I'm so _sorry_ Blaine, I had no idea. I never even thought to ask..I just, I should have _known_."

Blaine blinked away the new tears forming in the corners of his eyes to look long enough and notice that somewhere between the story of the vacation and last night's events, Kurt had also started crying.

"What are you talking about Kurt? This isn't your fault. There was no way you could have known, no one knows..not even my brother!" And then somehow the tables turned; Blaine let go of Kurt's hand, which had been clasped tightly in his own since the moment he started speaking, and enveloped him in a comforting hug, his arms gripping at the warm and wrinkled material on Kurt's back, his chin hooked over his shoulder.

"It's not that," Kurt tried to push Blaine back to see his face but Blaine wasn't letting go, not this time. "This isn't about me, I get that. It's just about _you, _Blaine. It's about all of this happening to you for _years_ and no one being there, not your friends or your brother. And the two people you're supposed to be able to count on most? God, they did this _to you._ It's just not fair, Blaine! It's not fair and I hate them for doing this to you and I hate your Dad for calling you those names and I hate every moment that you've had to deal with this on your own because it means you were hurting and I just..I'm just so, so _sorry."_

Blaine's eyes burned, his head pounded, his body ached from the stress and the weight of years of memories streaming back into his consciousness. Blaine had never felt more bruised, more broken than he did in that moment with Kurt's arms around his waist, his mouth breathing hot and heavy into his neck, his shirt damp from a mixture of their tears. He had never felt more broken, but he'd also never felt more loved.

Some time later, they'd calmed each other down and peeled their bodies apart, blushing furiously when they realized just how desperately they didn't _want _to be apart. The house was quiet, the room hushed in a blanket of intimacy and vulnerability Blaine _never_ thought he'd experience.

Maybe that's what it was, maybe it was that feeling that his body had just been cut open, his heart laying exposed between them, that caused Blaine to reach out and run his thumb over Kurt's cheek, his skin smooth, soft and heated underneath the touch. Maybe it was knowing that he had never been so open or vulnerable with anyone, that caused him to lean in and feel Kurt's hot breath ghost across his own lips. Maybe it was knowing that this was real and honest and Kurt wasn't just his best friend but his _boyfriend,_ that caused him to press his lips against Kurt's, breathing and tasting and feeling everything that Kurt was willing to give him.

Whatever it was, even if it meant reliving those horrible memories over and over, Blaine never wanted to stop feeling it because nothing had ever felt so intoxicatingly and earnestly _right _in his entire life.

"Well you sure don't waste any time now do you, little brother?"

Blaine and Kurt jumped apart, their lips damp and slightly swollen, their cheeks blushing, (partly from the intrusion but mostly from the taste of each other, still innocent and novel).

"Oh don't stop on my account," Zach called out as he walked towards the kitchen, "looks like it was just starting to get good." He winked at Kurt before disappearing into the other room.

"Oh my god," Kurt whispered for the second time that evening, this time decidedly more embarrassed than angry.

"So, um," Blaine stammered as he stood up and mindlessly smoothed out the front his pants, "I guess it's time you met my brother."


End file.
